Merry Christmas Illya
by Solo's Girl
Summary: Re-post (originally posted November 29, 2010) Illya's first American Christmas is spent snowed in at UNCLE HQ with Napoleon and their fellow agents.


_**Authors Note: **This story was originally posted November 29, 2010._

Christmas Eve.

And for a change THRUSH was taking the holiday off. It had still been a long day in the office and the agents were happy to finish up their paper work and get ready to leave for the evening. Napoleon Solo wrapped his scarf around his neck and finished buttoning his heavy coat. He switched the lights off on the tiny tree in his office and took the sealed note from his stocking hanging on the corner of the desk. No name. He held it to his nose and took a whiff of the perfume. A smile crossed his lips as he tucked the note into his coat pocket. He walked down the hall and tapped on his partner's door, giving it a slight push open in the process.

Illya was still hunched over his stack of paperwork, working slowly but efficiently. He barely glanced up as Solo walked in. Napoleon looked around the cold, bare, grey office then at his partner. Kuryakin you are one tough nut to crack he thought.

"Hey Partner," Solo said, shoving his hands in his coat pocket, "Any plans for this evening?"

"I don't celebrate Christmas, Napoleon," the reply came from the bent figure.

"You're kidding!" Solo said in surprise, "I know you don't know many people in America, but….."

Illya looked at him. Napoleon felt the steel blue eyes stare at him. His own eyes moved past the blond and saw the Balalaika case standing in the corner of the office.

"It's not that..I was planning to go to Little Russia tonight to get drunk along with my comrades, but as far as celebrating anything, I haven't since…well for several years now" Illya turned back to his paperwork.

Suddenly the air was filled with a loud static driven popping sound. It cleared and both men out of reflex looked at the overhead speaker.

"May I have your attention please," Mr. Waverly's voice came through, "May I have everyone's attention please..I am very sorry to inform you all that the snowstorm has literally closed down the city. The airports, streets, even sections of the public subway system have had to close because of the blizzard conditions. I cannot tell you how sorry I am, but it would appear that we are all confined to this building until the conditions outside permit safe passage for everyone."

A collective moan rose from every floor. Solo sat in the chair near his partner's desk. He watched Illya work on un-scathed by the news.

"Not that I really had any plans myself," Napoleon huffed, unbuttoning his coat.

Illya gave his head an "oh yeah, I'm sure" shake towards his partner.

"Christmas hasn't been the same for a long time," Solo continued with a sigh, "I remember when I was younger I always had to go to Embassy functions with my parents on Christmas Eve. My mother loved to sing carols on the way and I remember her favorite was "Do You Hear What I hear?" She would always sing it to me and….It would put me right to sleep. Do you know that one?"

Illya nodded his head and kept working. Napoleon shrugged his shoulders, stood up and went back to his office. Kuryakin was one hell of an agent, but personally….

Lisa Rogers looked at her Boss. He gave her a smile.

"I hope this doesn't dampen your plans, Miss Rogers," he said.

"Not at all sir," she said smiling at her Boss, "But I was just thinking..Do you think the cafeteria has enough food to get us through this?"

Waverly thought. How many agents and other staff were in the building? After a quick calculation he phoned the kitchen.

"Oh yes sir, Mr. Waverly," the cook said smiling, "We have plenty….Oh wait..Is Agent Kuryakin here?"

"Yes, I believe he is," Waverly said.

"In that case we may have to ration," the cook said laughing, "Not to worry sir, we can handle whatever you need from us."

"Very good," Waverly said, "I suggest you get a big dinner going. Even if it means we all eat late."

Waverly stood up and walked to the window of his office. The snow was coming down so hard he couldn't see the building across the street. Lisa saw him shake his head. His poor agents. It was rare when they had a THRUSH-Free Holiday and now they couldn't even celebrate it away from work.

"Permission to make a suggestion sir," Lisa said.

Waverly turned and looked at her.

Within a half hour Miss Rogers and about twelve of the other various section women had a battle plan and were going around within their sections spreading the word. At first their suggestion was greeted with snorts of discontentment, but then the idea began to grown on everyone. They could either be miserable or partake in the festivities and try to make the best of a bad situation.

In no time the building was abuzz with people gathering their own private decorations from their offices, making the move to the large top floor conference room. In no time they had the halls decked with decorations from many different countries. Napoleon brought his tree up to the room and set it up. Then everyone went back to their departments to finish their preparations.

The idea had been that everyone would present a small token to another member of the staff. Agents would exchange with their regular partners, others would draw names and exchange with the person they drew. It could be anything you wanted to give that person. Several people were in their offices making paper ornaments or things out of paperclips, or whatever they could find. The security team was threatened not to show up with their customary "Cartridge in a Bare Tree" as the joke was no longer funny after so many years.

Napoleon sat in his office trying to think what he could give his partner for a gift. Suddenly he remembered the small strongbox in his bottom drawer. Solo took out the box and unlocked it. He sorted thru the various items in it, photos, and souvenirs from his early days at U.N.C.L.E. things belonging to his parents. One thing caught his attention. Solo lifted the small pin and looked at it. Memories of his childhood flooded back and a sad smile crossed his lips. But it was perfect. He clutched it in his hand, closed and locked the box. Solo put the box away and locked the desk drawer.

The food was prepared and laid out buffet style on the long tables in the conference room. The servers exchanged their gifts and headed upstairs to wait for the agents and other staff. Once again the air was filled with the static of the loud speaker.

"Attention Everyone," Waverly said, "I want to thank everyone for bearing up under these conditions and would like to ask everyone to come up to the top floor for dinner and our party."

The halls rang with cheers

Once again, Solo opened the door of the Russian's office.

"Dinners ready," he said, "You coming?"

Illya made a small huff of frustration. He didn't celebrate Christmas. Why couldn't Napoleon leave him alone? Suddenly his stomach roared so loudly Napoleon heard it across the room. He stood up and went with the American to the conference room.

It was the best meal ever served at U.N.C.L.E. Waverly sat at the head of the table acting, as it were, the father of his large family. He made a toast to all and the feast began. Several people smiled and watched as the Russian went back for seconds, then thirds. Illya turned to return to his seat to see the smiling faces of his fellow agents looking at him. He went back and sat down finishing the food, practically licking the plate.

Napoleon got up and went back for more. He piled the plate high and returned to his seat. Solo reached over and took the empty plate from the blond and slid the loaded one in front of him. Illya tried unsuccessfully to hide his smile from his partner.

Gift exchange time. A few of the departments had decided that instead of exchanging one on one they would give a joint gift to everyone assembled.

The Research department went first. The head of the department wheeled in a large blackboard and with the help of his staff, they presented their theory on the ability of Reindeer to fly and the weight-to-transport ratio plausibility for Santa to carry so many presents. Their fun filled presentation was greeted with laughter and applause.

Security had decided to sing carols with a twist. "Santa Claus is coming to Town" for example was augmented with suggested safety precautions to take to prevent such an invasion of privacy but the jovial octogenarian. People laughed so hard they were pounding on the tables and holding their sides.

One on one gifts were exchanged. Everyone had a good laugh as they looked at their gifts. One Asia agent gave their partner an Origami Unicorn for luck in the coming year. Another agent gave his French partner a small Eiffel Tower made of paperclips. Handmade ornaments with the date of this special holiday forever engrained on them.

Kuryakin watched confused by the amount of love and good will all around him. He felt more out of place than normal. Jessica Williams of reception walked up to him. He saw her cheek blush.

"I don't actually have a present for you," Jessica said, shyly, "But…Merry Christmas." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

He watched her walk away, sneaking glances back at him.

Illya slipped from the crowd and went back to his office. He sat down at his desk. Kuryakin felt his heart pounding. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk, his hands pressed against his face. He felt something strange.

Illya moved his hand across his cheek. He looked at his fingers. They were wet. He rubbed them across his face once more and again swept away the tears that were there. He looked around his empty, lonely office. Suddenly a soft sweet voice drifted into his head.

"_My beautiful__, sweet Ilyusha." He heard his mother's voice say._

The only words she had said to him. He looked over into the corner of his office.

The party was still at full tilt when the popping sounds of the public address system caught everyone's attention. Waverly looked at Napoleon. A strange hush fell over the room as the static cleared. They could hear someone take a deep breath thru the speakers, but whoever it was said nothing. Everyone in the room sat looking at the overhead speaker.

Suddenly the air was filled with the most beautiful sounds they had ever heard. People smiled and softly sang along as the balalaika's wonderful tones played the carol "Do You Hear What I Hear?". Many of the others had never heard music like this and it moved many to tears.

Many people whispered, wanting to know who was playing. Why had they not brought the wonderful music into the hall in person? Waverly quickly looked around the room to see who was missing. He looked at Napoleon.

Solo sat at the table, his one hand over his mouth, trying unsuccessfully to hide his smile and his tears as he listened to the music. He caught Waverly's gaze. He saw his boss mouth the word Kuryakin and Solo simply nodded. The agent stood up and headed to the only place his partner could be, the communications office.

Napoleon walked in the room just as Illya was switching off the speaker. He saw the Russian hold the delicate instrument tight in his arms and gently kiss the fingerboard. He looked up and saw Napoleon standing in the door.

Illya watched his partner walk towards him, reaching inside his pocket. He saw Napoleon take something from his pocket and held out a small American flag pin. Solo hooked it to the Russian's jacket lapel and gave it a pat.

"This use to belong to my Father," Napoleon said a slight crack in his voice; "It was given to him when he was an aid to the Ambassador to the Court of Saint James. They were on a diplomatic assignment..in Moscow."

Illya reached up and touched the small pin. He looked at his partner.

"Merry Christmas, Napoleon," Kuryakin said.

"Merry Christmas, Illya."


End file.
